


Ambitions Like Ribbons Worn Bright on my Sleeve

by flowersforgraves



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest, ambiguous timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 07:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: Bo-Katan chews on the end of a stylus absentmindedly, staring down at the notepad on her lap. "Satine," she says, "is kissing girls much different from kissing boys?"





	Ambitions Like Ribbons Worn Bright on my Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indigo_inks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_inks/gifts).

> title from "Eric's Song" by Vienna Teng ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImgK6DRGTZE))

Bo-Katan sits cross-legged on Satine's bed, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Satine thinks she's beautiful. She always has, and now that they're both old enough to know the way things are done she has to keep reminding herself that Bo-Katan's comments over the past few months are easily misinterpreted. It must simply be wishful thinking. Bo-Katan isn't interested in Satine.

Bo-Katan chews on the end of a stylus absentmindedly, staring down at the notepad on her lap. "Satine," she says idly, "is kissing girls much different from kissing boys?" The attitude is an affectation, something Bo-Katan does when she has intensely personal discussions but wants to hide her emotional involvement.

Satine nearly chokes at the unexpected question, so topical to her own thoughts that she has a brief rush of shame. "I shouldn't think so," she says. "But I haven't done it, of course." She turns away, hiding the flush rising in her face by fiddling with a thread on her sleeve. "Why do you ask?"

Bo-Katan shrugs, goes back to writing. "I'm curious," she replies. "And the tutors always say that asking questions is the only way I'm going to learn."

"The tutors also say that there won't be a war," Satine points out as she turns back to face Bo-Katan, the acid in her tone directed not at her sister but at their tutors. "And there's already a war." Violence has erupted in multiple cities across Mandalore, resulting in tightened security and a violent crackdown on anyone violating curfew. In turn, the crackdown inspires protests and an outcry for a return to the old Mando ways. It's a civil war in all but name, and they both know it.

She dips her head to Satine, acknowledging the point, and keeps writing. Satine doesn't keep a diary, but Bo-Katan picked up the habit ten years ago and has been doing it ever since, and she's perfectly happy to let her sister sit in her room while she journals and Satine reads. There's some quiet enjoyment to be taken from simply existing in the same room with another person, and it's the kind of pleasure that appeals to both of them.

Satine can't help but wonder if Bo-Katan's curiosity is about kissing girls in general, or about Satine's opinion specifically about kissing girls. Her heart beats faster, and she knows she shouldn't, but when she opens her mouth next, she says, "You can also learn through action." Inwardly she winces, having been on the receiving end of an awkward, clumsy attempt at oblique flirting more often than she'd like. 

But either Bo-Katan doesn't understand how bad that line was, or she's never had someone properly charismatic try to woo her, because she looks up at Satine, smiling. It's her whole face, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunched up, and it makes Satine's heart lighter. "Do you know someone who'd be interested?"

Apparently the universe is conspiring against her. It's a good thing Satine has already steeled herself to expressionlessness, because her heart leaps into her throat, a rush of want-need-jealousy-joy filling her lungs. "I think so," she says, and _thank whatever higher power is listening,_ her voice doesn't sound choked off, despite the heady emotional high of desire rising in her chest.

Bo-Katan sticks the stylus back in her mouth. "Great. I want to kiss a girl at least before the tutors have an aneurysm about the war. Preferably sooner rather than later."

"Any girl in particular?" Satine asks before she can stop herself. 

Slowly, deliberately, Bo-Katan sets the notepad and stylus down on Satine's bed and unfolds her crossed legs. "No," she says, standing up. "But if you want to come practice with me…" She lets her voice trail off as she comes into arm's reach of her older sister. "Maybe both of us can find some use. You said you hadn't kissed girls before. And heads of state need to be multi-talented. Can't be one-dimensional."

Satine finds her hands coming up without conscious effort, pulling Bo-Katan closer by the hips. Bo-Katan's hands rise in turn, cupping Satine's face and looking up into her eyes. 

She breathes in. Bo-Katan smells like floral perfume and citrus, from shower and lunch respectively. Satine is certain the combination has never been so sweet. She closes her eyes, bites the inside of her lip, and leans her forehead against Bo-Katan's. When she opens her eyes again, Bo-Katan is still there: she's not dreaming.

"The tutors also say practice makes perfect," Satine whispers, barely daring to breathe.

"They're frequently wrong," Bo-Katan replies. "We should probably do some first-hand research."

She nods, words caught in her throat, and melts into Bo-Katan's soft kiss. It's tender and sweet and Satine's fantasies of what this would be like are left behind as the tide of wonder flows through her. It's better than fantasy, because Bo-Katan is warm and solid and real and _here_ and Satine can linger as long as she likes.

They break apart slowly, Satine's eyes fluttering open a half-second before Bo-Katan's. It gives her an opportunity, however brief, to see the unguarded joy on Bo-Katan's face, which is utterly worth it. "Well?" she asks quietly, still stunned.

"Better," Bo-Katan says. Satine's brow furrows, confused, but she clarifies a breath later. "Better than kissing boys."

Satine smiles, genuine and warm, and leans in for another kiss. Bo-Katan obliges her, mouth opening easily when Satine's tongue brushes over her lips. This time it's longer, deeper, sensual in a way that sends a frisson down Satine's spine. Bo-Katan is the one to break it, and Satine chases after her lips for a fraction of a second before opening her eyes.

"I think we need to do some further research," Bo-Katan tells her. "We won't know if practice makes perfect if we don't practice." Her eyes are still smiling in that way Satine loves so much, even if her mouth isn't.

"This is -- it's already high quality," Satine tells her. "How much better are you looking to get?"

Bo-Katan grins, plants another kiss on Satine's cheek. "How much time do you have for practice?" she asks.


End file.
